A Tale of Thirteen
by Jade Rabbit
Summary: What if 4 other races had been at Elrond's Council, and in the Fellowship? They will aid in the coming fight, for good or ill. ActionAdventure, some Humor, probably no Romance. Chapter 4 up!
1. The Council of Elrond

Yes, another story. I had a plotbunny. I will get on to my other ones, but I feel a need to start this one. I hope it has the originality that some other similar stories lack. Please read and review!

J.R.R. Tolkien owns all of Middle-earth. I've taken quotes from the movie, and those belong to Peter Jackson. The Draenei and Centaurs I've taken from World of Warcraft, so they belong to Blizzard. I've just plucked those races and put them in a different setting, so no other WoW events will be in here. Note that I haven't even played the game anyway. The Drows are based on the ones from Dungeons & Dragons. Atarimae, Slyan, and other characters you don't recognize belong to me.

The Draenei will be sort of Japanese with architecture and clothing and stuff, the Drow will be more Indian (from India, not America), and the Centaurs will be like Vikings. And Draenei is pronounced DRAN-eye. The fairies will be sort of like the Roma people (otherwise known as Gypsies).

A Tale of Thirteen

Chapter 1- The Council of Elrond

Atarimae had been in Rivendell for 2 hours, but it seemed a bit longer. The Council of Elrond was set to start soon, but the Centaurs and perhaps some others had not yet arrived. Atarimae snorted and rolled her eyes. _Centaurs, honestly..._ Atarimae was a Draenei, a race unique in appearance. This particular one had blue skin, glowing whiteish eyes, and horns curling around her head. All Draenei also had horse-like feet, furry and hooved (Atari's fur was gray), but only from the knee down. Draenei also had long, muscular, lizard-like tails. She was garbed in a beautiful Elf dress, generously given to her by Elrond after her arduous journey. Her clothes were in desperate need of a washing, and her armor needed to be repaired. Her hair was black and pulled into a thick long braid that reached her rear. Her mount, a creature called an elekk, was in the stables, though no one was quite sure what to make of him. He was about the size of a large horse, and was strikingly similar to an elephant, though he was a little smaller and he had huge tusks and horns coming out of his head. His name was Akane.

Draenei had never been official enemies with the Centaur, though they held a mutual disdain for each other that surfaced whenever possible. The Draenei considered Centaurs to be nothing more than stupid creatures that should be avoided, not because they were dangerous, but because they were uncivilized. Centaurs, in turn, thought that Draenei were nothing more than snobby freaks that sat in their little pagodas and looked down at the commoners.

Atarimae turned around when she heard a presence behind her. "My lady," a slightly unnerved she-Elf said, "it is time for the Council." Atarimae smiled and followed the Elf to the designated spot. She was not surprised that so many were in attendance. This was a matter of epic proportions that concerned all races of Middle-earth. Most races were in attendance- Dwarves, Elves, Hobbits, Men. The two Centaurs were there also, and they both glared at Atarimae, who glared fiercely in return. Atarimae sat down in the seat farthest from the Centaurs.

The centaurs were both male and both were the most muscular males in the room. They both had thin brown fur on their upper bodies. Their lower bodies were those of horses, with impossibly large hooves. Their lower body fur color was dark brown, and it was very thick. On their chests were white tattoos, and they were both wearing large bracers with spikes on them. They both had black hair in their head drawn into high ponytail. They had earrings on their ears (which were a bit droopy). They both had rather large nostrils and hardened faces with a few scars.

Impatience swelled inside Atarimae as she waited for Elrond. She even resorted to tapping her tail. She stopped when she heard the sound of high-heeled footsteps. When the figure revealed herself, Atarimae raised her eyebrows. The figure was Slyan Elemmiire, a Drow. Her skin was black as night. Her hair was white as snow, and fell loose and messy past her shoulders. But her eyes may have been her most striking feature. They were dark violet and seemed to grow with an inner light. Her ears were also pointed like an Elf's, but a little bit pointier. She also was wearing an Elven dress similar to Atarimae's.

Slyan didn't want to be here. She would have no qualms with making an alliance with the Dark Lord himself to save her own race, and myself of course. The other races be damned. They oppressed their women too much. The Draenei were the only other tolerable race. She glared as the Elves in the circle stood up.

"What is _THAT_ doing here?" one of the Elves next to Prince Leg-something-or-other said.

"I am your better, so you should speak to me with respect, _Elf_," Slyan said arrogantly.

"Excuse me, Drow? You should have stayed in your musty old cave! No one wants you here!" Legolas yelled.

"Mir dosst ooble' , Darthirii!" Slyan said in her native tongue. She jumped as a loud voice boomed.

"Quit your arguing!" the Wizard, Gandalf, told them. They didn't listen as the Men rolled their eyes.

"Sit down, all of you. This is a serious council, and I'll not have your foolishness ruin it!" Lord Elrond yelled at them. Slyan immediately silenced herself and sat down. The Elves were another story.

"But my Lord Elrond, she cannot be trusted. Drows are despicable, barbaric creatures that live to kill, and take what isn't theirs!" Legolas said angrily. Elrond looked at him with a hard look on his face.

"That is not the point!" the Ranger said. "We are here not separate, but equal! We must get past our differences so we may be allies in the fight against Sauron! Only together will we prevail!"

Slyan rolled her eye. It was a romantic notion, but almost impossible to put into action. The races putting aside their differences and actually cooperating was like thinking the Ainur would come down and actually _do something_. It seemed that Legolas cared for the opinions of the Ranger, and he and his companions sat down.

A Centaur smirked and muttered, "About time..." Slyan turned towards him, smirked, and snapped her fingers.

The Man, Boromir, turned and said, "Is something burning?"

The smaller centaur looked at his leader and exclaimed, "You're on fire!" Both centaurs freaked a little bit and scrambled the put out the fire with their hands. When it was out, they both looked at Slyan.

"Sorcery!" the leader, Barak Kodobane, exclaimed.

"Drows are gifted with a natural affinity with fire. It bends to our command," Slyan smirked at Barak.

"Ar you quite finished?" Lord Elrond asked. Barak grumbled something but calmed down and paid attention to Lord Elrond. With that, Lord Elrond began.

"Strangers fr-"

"Wait for me!" Elrond halted at a small, squeaky voice. They all turned around as a small figure flew out of the trees and sat down on the only empty chair, breathing heavily. Thing was, the creature was only about a foot tall.

"So good of you to join us, Annamaria," Elrond said to the fairy, smiling a bit.

"Sorry, Elrond. I ran into a tree on the way here," Annamaria told him, giggling. Annamaria had brown skin and dark brown eyes. Her ears were 3 inches long, big in proportion to her body. They stuck out sideways and a bit upwards from her head. They were very pointed, and had large loop earrings in them. On her back were 4 small, iridescent wings that shimmered green. Her clothes were a bit tattered, but still in very good condition. She wore a soft cream colored shirt under a brown corset, with red frills at the top of the shirt. On her hands were brown gloves that went past her wrists a little bit. She had on a light brown skirt that went to a little above her knees, with brown and green embroidery above red frills at the bottom. Over the skirt on the top was a large black belt. Annamaria wore large, black, lace-up boots that went a bit below her knee. Finally, on her head, was a brown bandanna that covered her head, but not her hair, which was brown and tied into two fluffy pigtails.

The Dwarves sputtered. "A _fairy_? A fairy would dare show itself in the presence of a Dwarf?" Gloin sounded outraged and surprised at the same time. He got out his ax and prepared to swing. Then, Elrond grabbed Gloin's wrist.

"What is the meaning of this?" Elrond asked.

"Fairies are horrible creatures! They delight in playing foul tricks, and stealing all the Dwarves' shiny treasures!" Gimli, Son of Gloin, said. He said the last part a bit sadly. "They are evil tricksters!"

Annamaria smirked a little bit as Elrond spoke, "Have you not listened to anything that has been said? We must get past our differences or Sauron will crush us!" The Dwarves sat down, though a bit hesitantly. Elrond began his little speech again.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned her to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. Each race is bound to the fate, this one doom," Elrond said forcefully. He looked toward the Hobbit sitting next to the Wizard. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The young Hobbit hesitantly walked toward the stone column and placed the Ring on it. "So it is true..." Boromir said to himself. Frodo walked back and sat down next to the Wizard. Almost immediately, all could hear a hushed whisper coming from the Ring. Some even looked around to see where it was coming from. It stopped, and Boromir stood up.

"In a dream," he started, "I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Ban is found..." He reached toward the Ring, his face blank. All looked a bit uneasy. "Isildur's Bane..."

"Boromir!" Elrond cried. Slyan quickly started the arm of Boromir's shirt on fire. This snapped him out of it a bit, but then Gandalf stood up and began speaking in a language none could understand. But they all understood something- that language was evil. All of Imladris grew dark, and Elrond put his hand up to his face in agitation. Gimli grabbed for his ax. Legolas looked decidedly queasy. Boromir looked around wildly, the fire on his sleeve put out, and sat back down, surprised. Frodo looked in awe and fear at the scene before him.

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris," Elrond told Gandalf.

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil," Gandalf responded, his voice a bit hoarse. Boromir shook his head and smiled.

"It is a gift," he told them, "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe!Give Gonfor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" By this time, the Ranger was looking rather agitated.

"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master!" the Ranger said. Boromir looked at him with contempt.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir questioned.

Legolas stood up. "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

Boromir turned around in awe. "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas told him.

_Oooh, heeheeheehee. This is getting good_, Annamaria thought, and giggled.

Boromir looked at Legonas, then at Aragorn. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king," he spat with contempt.

"Havo dad, Legolas," Aragorn told him. Legolas did as he was bid.

"Yes it does. Your father, the Steward, is just that- a Steward. The people need a king to give them hope, and to lead them. All your father will lead them to is death," the Draenei, Atarimae, said.

Boromir glared at her. "How dare you-"

"SILENCE!" Elrond shouted. "This is not the time!"

"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it," Gandalf said. Elrond stood up.

"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed," Elrond said. Most of those present looked a bit uneasy. Frodo glanced at the Ring.

Gimli stood up and grabbed his ax. "What are we waiting for?" the Dwarf said as he swung his ax toward the Ring.

Slyan exclaimed, "No!" But it was too late. Gimli's ax shattered into bits, and he fell back. Frodo jumped and acted as if his head was on fire.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Elrond said. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this," Elrond concluded. No one volunteered.

Atarimae snorted. "Good luck with that," she said snarkily. Elrond turned to look at her and his eyes practically screamed, _Can it, beotch_.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir piped up after his silence. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire, and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 men could you do this. It is folly." Boromir concluded his mini-rant.

Legolas stood up. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond just said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you thing you are the one to do it!" Gimli bellowed.

"And if we fail what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!" Boromir asked.

"Well, we're obviously all doomed, aren't we?" Annamaria quipped only half-jokingly.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli hollered as he stood up.

"Ji tlu ol, Hargluk!" Slyan yelled at him back.

"Quit speaking in tongues, you witch!" Gimli looked about ready to throw his _other_ ax at her. Pretty soon almost everyone was up and yelling at each other.

Frodo then started to look more uncomfortable than ever, and he was fidgeting an awful lot. Atarimae didn't fail to notice this. "I will take it!" Frodo yelled. He couldn't be heard over all the arguing. Barak arched his back and let out a loud, inhuman bellow that probably could have been heard for miled. The birds darted out the trees as fast as their little birdie wings would allow. All quieted instantly and looked at the Centaur.

"The Halfling speaks," Barak said simply. Frodo looked at him with gratitude, and a little fear.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though... I do not know the way" he said a bit shyly. Gandalf had a resigned look on his face, as if he had been expecting and both fearing this moment.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear," Galdalf told Frodo. Aragorn stood up and walked to Frodo.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword," Aragorn said as he bowed before Frodo.

"And you have my bow," Legolas said valiantly.

"And my ax," said the Dwarf. The Fairy fluttered and landed atop Legolas' head.

"And my fluttery wingies!" Annamaria said. Legolas batter her off his head and she stuck her ongue out at him.

"As well as my naginata," Atarimae said. Most of those present looked at her as if she had grown another head. "It's similar to a spear..." they all nodded in understanding. "Loosely..." Atari muttered.

"And my staff," Barak said as he went to Frodo's side. They all looked at Slyan.

"What, now? I'm volunteering for some suicide mission! No way!" Slyan said. Elrond came up to her and whispered in her ear. Slyan paled considerably. "My whip, too," she said angrily. She then started muttering about evil half-Elves and their meddling ways. Elrond looked quite pleased with himself.

"What use is a Fairy on a quest such as this?" Boromir questioned angrily. "And a she-child at that. She cannot be any older than twelve!"

Annamaria faintly glowed red in her anger. She flew right over to Boromir and hovered so her head was equal with his eyes. "For you information, little mister, I am old enough to be you great great grandmother! And I am an Earth Fairy, therefore I can bid all manner of greenery to do my will, which make me a wee bit more useful than your little stick!" She kicked his nose and sat atop Frodo's head (he was a bit surprised).

Elrond smiled at her. "True as that may be, to the other Fairies you are the equivalent of 12 in mortal years. And you have barely started training with your talents, correct? And while we're on the subject, why did the Queen send you?"

Annamaria glared at him. "Because she really doesn't care what happens to any of the other races. They aren't her jurisdiction."

Boromir strode up to Frodo. "You carry the fates of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

Just then, everyone heard a rustling sound coming from some nearby shrubbery. Then a rather chubby Hobbit ran out and stood beside Frodo.

"Mr. Frodo isn't going anywhere without me!" he said.

"No, indeed it is hard to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not," Lord Elrond said, clearly amused. At that time, two more Hobbits ran out into the bunch from behind a couple stone arches.

"We're coming too!" one of them exclaimed."You'll need to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Besides, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing." the smaller one said. Gandalf looked at them amusedly.

"Well that rules you out, Pip," the other whispered to him, though those present could clearly hear it. Elrond looked upon them all.

"Thirteen companions," the Elf lord said, "You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." Overall, it was an epic, golden moment. The kind you real about in tales of... epic, goldenness.

"Great!" Where are we going?"

Blech A little over 6 pages. My longest chappie ever! You peeps better be happy! Read and Review, please. I'm not the type of person to say, "I won't post the next chapter until I get 15 reviews!", because I think you should write because you love it, not because of other people. But, BTW, reviews are great motivators...

Mir dosst ooble', Darthirii-

Ji tlu ol, Hargluk- So be it, Dwarf


	2. Attack

Thank you to my first two reviewers! They were appreciated! Also, the language for Drows I've also taken from Dungeons and Dragons, and I've got an online translator. And can anyone tell me how put on page breaks, cause for the life of me I can't seem to figure it out.

A Tale of Thirteen

Chapter 2- The Journey

Slyan was walking toward the stables, where they were keeping her Saber. Sabers were a species similar to what we would call tigers. There were different subspecies of saber, from the snow-favoring frostsaber, to the cave-dwelling inksaber. Slyan's was an inksaber, named Renor. His fur was black as night, with eyes blue as the sea. He had large ears and large paws. A Hobbit would only be as tall as his rump, never mind his head. The Elves caring for the animals in the stables didn't know quite what to make of him. Or feed him.

Slyan arrived at the stables. Upon arriving arriving at her friend's stall, Slyan was met with a death glare, followed closely by a growl. Slyan stifled a giggle. "Vrine'winith nindel! Ol zhahus naut uns'aa nindel morfel dos alu wun gaer." (Stop that! It was not me that made you go in there.) Renor rolled his eyes at her. Slyan rolled her eyes and sent up to a stablehand. "Find a saddle that fits him, okay?" she requested.

"R-right away, miss," the clearly on edge boy said.

Slyan clapped her hands together loudly. "Chop chop!" she told him. He yelped and ran out of the stable. Slyan gave a malicious chuckle.

"You shouldn't startle the Elflings," said a voice behind her. Slyan turned around quickly. It was Atarimae, the Draenei.

"I was only having a bit of a laugh. Don't act like you can boss me around," Slyan told her angrily.

"We are in a war. You need not make the Drows any more enemies than they already have," Atarimae instructed her sternly. The Drow glared at her.

"I know that, but that doesn't mean I can't have any fun," with that, Slyan turned back around and walked down the stable. "AAAHHH!" she screamed when a loud blaring assaulted her ears. She inched to the side and turned her head. There was an elephant-like creature with its trunk reared, clearly about to produce that glass-shattering noise again. At first Slyan's face was blank. Her face contorted into a terrified expression, and she took off running, the elekk's noise following her.

Atarimae, grinning walked up to the elekk. "Good boy..." she cooed as she petted his neck.

Dhdhdhdhddddhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd

All of the journeyers were assembled at some sort of gate, with Lord Elrond and a host of other Elves before them. All of the journeyers, that is, except Slyan and Atarimae. The Elves were chatting amongst themselves while they waited for the other two. They silenced themselves when Atarimae came into view... with an elephant thing at her side. Those present gaped.

"What is the meaning of this?" Boromir demanded.

"This is my trusted companion and friend, Akane. He is an elekk. And he's going whether you like it or not," Atarimae informed him.

"This... beast... will only hinder our quest. Doubtless this thing will be noticed by our enemies," Boromir argued.

"You are bringing a horse. What difference does an elekk make? He will be able to carry some of our packs, and the Hobbits can ride him if they get too weary," the Draenei pointed out.

"We have the horse for that!" Boromir shouted, knowing her was losing the argument.

"But Akane is more valuable than an old horse," Atarimae smirked.

"And how would a beast such as this fare victorious in battle?" Boromir inquired, his arms crossed.

"Did you not notice those sharp things protruding from his head? Those are called tusks. He can stab things with them if need be. And he can kick things and stomp things," Atarimae explained, as if speaking to a small child. Boromir fumed silently, knowing he was beaten.

"Now that that's settled, where-" Lord Elrond began. He was cut off by a squeal.

"Wait for me!" the voice came from behind Elrond. He turned around and saw Slyan... with a big, fluffy cat. He sighed.

"Another one!?" Boromir shouted. He didn't bother arguing this time, and fumed silently.

"Yes, thank you. And there's nothing you can do to stop it," Slyan stuck her tongue out at him.

"Um... are you sure that thing isn't going to eat us?" Pippin asked. Slyan looked at him.

"The 'thing' has a name; Renor. And he will not attack anyone unless I tell him to," the Drow said. Renor let out an indignant growl. "Or if he really wants to," Slyan added. Pippin looked uneasy, but didn't press it further.

Atarimae and Slyan were both dressed in simple traveling clothes, and Annamaria, who sat atop Aragorn's head, was wearing the same clothes she wore upon arrival. Aragorn didn't look to happy, but he was a tolerant man.

All quieted as Elrond spoke, "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom."

As he spoke, Slyan rolled her eyes and sighed. _One of his little speeches again..._, she thought.

Elrond continued, "On you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will." Slyan snorted, remembering what he'd threatened to do if she didn't come. Elrond looked at her sharply, and she quieted. "Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you."

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer," Gandalf, who was at the back of the group, said.

"But he's right here!" Annamaria argued. Several eyebrows were raised at her. "Oh, you mean he has to go first! Why didn't you just say 'Frodo goes first'? It has a lot less syllables," Annamaria stated without taking a breath between words.

Gimli chuckled. "Stupid fairy..." Gimli muttered.

"Stupid Dwarf!" Annamaria shot back. Gimli rolled his eyes. Frodo smiled at their little spat and walked out the arches.

"Mordor, Gandalf, is it left or right?" Frodo asked hastily.

"Left," Gandalf answered quietly.

"Yay... the kid doesn't even know where to go..." Slyan muttered to herself. Legolas shot her a dirty look.

On their journey, the Fellowship passed through great valleys walked near large ruins. One the 6th day after they set out for Rivendell, the group was camped out in some old castle ruins, and it was Annamaria's turn for watch. Barak, the centaur, didn't trust her to do it properly and so sat with her.

"I could easily have done this all by myself," Annamaria sulked.

"Your whining isn't convincing me of that," Barak told her, grinning. Just then, Annamaria's ears twitched. She looked up. Her wings sprouted from her back and she soared up into the air.

"Hey, what are you-!?" Barak started, but he shook his head. Legolas got up and approached him.

"What is she doing?" Legolas asked.

"Who knows?" Barak answered. Legolas rolled his eyes. Annamaria dropped into Barak's back, her eyes shining worriedly.

"What is it, what's wrong?" Aragorn, who had also come to see what was going on, asked her.

"A pack of wargs, coming this way! There aren't any orcs with them, though, so I think they're wild and not servants of Sauron," she told them hurriedly, panicking.

Legolas and Barak's eyes hardened. "Wake the others and guard the Hobbits," he told Annamaria. She set off to do her task.

"You would trust a fairy to guard our little companions?" Barak asked him incredulously.

"Despite their small stature, fairies are not without their wiles," Legolas answered evasively as he drew his bow and arrows. Gandalf came blundering into the conversation with the Hobbits and the fairy behind him.

"What has happened?" he asked hurriedly.

Annamaria rolled her eyes. "I just told you, stupid!" she spat at him. Galdalf raised his staff to strike her lightly, but she evaded neatly.

"Wargs, coming this way," Aragorn explained, unsheathing his sword. Slyan and Atarimae walked up, the Draenei holding her naginata and Slyan holding her whip curled in her hand.

"Right on! I've been itchin for a fight!" Slyan exclaimed. The others stared at her at her odd language. "What do you think you're staring at? We got a battle to win!"

The warriors readied themselves as the wargs came into view. Disgusting creatures, obviously not Sauron's toadies.

Slyan cracked her whip and swung as the wargs lunged at the Fellowshippers. Slyan brought up her naginata among the fray, and Barak stylistically twirled his staff. Unfortunately, a few wargs got past them.

Annamaria was with the Hobbits, leading them away from the battle, when she heard the wargs' yips. She span around in midair and floated. "We won't be able to get away..." she said with worry.

"So we fight," Sam put in fiercely. He drew his blade, holding it like an amateur despite his ferocity. The other Hobbits followed his lead.

"Hopefully, you won't need to use those," Annamaria said, raising her hands in front of her. The wargs were withing view, and closing in fast. When they were just a couple feet away, Annamaria brought her arms back and slammed them forward. Several giant thorns darted out of the ground and pierced the wargs, killing them instantly. The Hobbits looked with awe, and just a bit of fear. Annamaria knelt down and slammed her hands into the ground. Immediately, a dome made of fines with some of her thorns mixed in appeared over the group. "That should work," Annamaria, smugly said, panting. Then she fainted.

Elsewhere, most of the wargs had been cut down by the warriors doing their things. When it was all clear, they all stood panting.

"We should go look for the Hobbits," Boromir announced, then went to where they were earlier.

"No, really...?" Slyan mumbled rhetorically. The others nodded their heads and followed.

They trudged on toward where the Hobbits and the Fairy had last been seen. Aragorn studied the ground, picking up their trail. After walking for a few minutes, Renor growled and ran ahead. The warriors followed him.

"Oh my..." Legolas whispered. In front of the group were the bodies of 5 wargs, skewered by giant thorns. A few yards away from the skewered corpses, was a dome made of greenery. Everyone could hear faint voices calling for help. Boromir, Aragorn, and Gimli ran up and started hacking away with their weapons. Atarimae walked up and made mincemeat of the dome with her naginata's blade.

The Hobbits ran up and started talking all at once. Amid the yelling, Gandalf bellowed, "Be quiet!" Immediate silence followed.

Legolas walked over to Annamaria's unconscious form and picked her up gently. "She has used much power..." he told the group.

"She saved us! The wargs were coming, and she made these thorns bolt out of the ground and pierce them dead!" Pippin exclaimed.

"Will she be alright?" the Ringbearer asked.

"She must be really powerful..." Sam said, with just a bit of suspicion in his voice.

"She could be, with practice," Barak told them. "Just this took much out of her. Her kin can accomplish much more using a fraction of the power she used."

Ooohs and Aaahs from the Hobbits followed. Atarimae walked up and took Annamaria from Legolas's arms and perched her on top of Akane.

"Come. We must go now. The sooner we arrive at the Elf city, the better," she told them.

"Yeah, that'll be something..." Slyan mumbled. The thought of a lone Drow in a city full of Elves did not appeal to her.

"Taking orders from women... How embarrassing..." Gimli thought out loud. Slyan smacked him upside the head playfully and ran ahead of the others, giggling.

"Just you wait, witch woman!" Gimli yelled, sprinting after her.

Even Legolas could not suppress a smile and the twinkle in his eyes.

Ghskjalflkfneninjasdlknfl

Yeah, 2nd chapter! Sorry for the wait, but I tend to get sick a lot, I'm a high-school freshmen, and my aunt got diagnosed with cancer so... it's been a wild ride... But I'll try to update more often, just for you guys! Bye bye!


	3. To The Mines of Moria

Hello! Welcome to A Tale of Thirteen: Chapter 2, To The Mines of Moria! Applaud now! Those of you who did, I appreciate your reviews. I always enjoy constructive criticism! Now to answer some questions/comments in the reviews:

I personally wouldn't consider this a crossover. The plot is not from Wow and there aren't any specific characters from it. I only got ideas for the races used in my story from it. Besides that, the fairies in my story don't resemble any race that I know of in Wow. Besides which, I don't even play it.

This is a hypothetical 'What If..?' story. I am fully aware that these races and characters weren't in Tolkien's original works. That's why it's a FANFICTION.

Also, Elrond wasn't threatening her with something serious. Actually, it's quite funny. You'll see... He knew that going on the journey would be good for her, and that she was way too self-absorbed and stubborn to volunteer on her own.

I never said that the abilities of the Drows and Fairies were magic. They are genetic traits that they happen to possess, just like the elves having pointy ears, or their skill with bows and arrows.

I'll try not to use as many of the movie lines in the future. The 2nd chapter didn't have very many.

Lastly, I didn't say that the races oppress their women (least I don't remember directly saying that...). I've only seen the movies, so sorry if I get something wrong. Women are hardly warriors or anyhing. There weren't any major female characters (except Arwen who I didn't care for, and Eowyn who only fought because she disobeyed orders). Eowyn was the only female warrior there was that I know of, and she was a closet one at that, and Galadriel was the only woman in power that I know of.

Well, I hope I answered your concerns okay. If you have any more questions, please ask!

Jsfkjasdflkjd

And so the Fellowship journeyed on. They did not run into anything as bad as the wargs after their little skirmish.

Eventually, the group came to a mountain that they began climbing. The wind and snow wore the journeyers out...

"I hate this mountain..." Slyan complained between chattering teeth. She was particularly susceptible to cold. Her lips were tinged blue and she had become rather pale, quite alarming since she was normally black. Barak the Centaur trudged on. Annamaria was riding on Renor's back bundled up.

Atarimae jumped as Frodo, kitty corner in front of her a little bit, tumbled backward.

"Frodo!" Aragorn called. He helped the little Hobbit brush himself up. Boromir, closer than Atarimae, bent down and stood up, with the Ring dangling from his hand. He stared at like some of great worth... something precious...

"Boromir..." Aragorn called softly.

"Give it back to Frodo," Slyan told him firmly. Boromir looked at her, out of his reverie. He span around and threw the Ring at Frodo's feet.

"As you wish. I care not," spat Boromir, spinning around and going on.

"Whatever..." Slyan mumbled, going ahead as well.

They wore on and the weather got worse. Now trudging through a blizzard, the Fellowship looked like stinkier shit than before. Annamaria look up weakly.

"What's that...?" she asked, her ears tilted upward.

Legolas looked to the side. "There is a fell voice in the air!" he told the others.

"Well, that's just great, huh?" Slyan said sarcastically. Her words betrayed her feelings. The cold was really getting to her. It was mostly humid in the Drows' cave homes, and Slyan was not used to the severe weather.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled above the howling wind. As he was yelling, rocks above the group started to tumble toward them. The Fellowship braced themselves.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled.

"We have to go back!" Barak added.

"No!" Gandalf replied. The voice in the air got louder, and Gandalf started chanting. He was too late, and lightning struck the mountain above the journeyers. Snow came tumbling down as the Fellowship braced themselves.

After they had finally gotten out of the snow, Bormir piped up, "We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan, and take the west road to my city!"

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn told him.

"We cannot pass throught a mountain. Let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria," Gimli suggested.

"Yes, I like that plan. Nice, warm underground caves..." Slyan said longingly.

Gandalf, looking defeated, said, "Let the Ring-bearer decide."

"We sure can't stay here all day!" Slyan said angrily.

"This will be the death of the Hobbits!" Boromir piped up.

Everyone looked expectantly at Frodo. "We will go through the mines, " he said with finality.

"So be it," the Wizard said sadly.

"You got somethin' to say o the class, Wizard? Speak up!" Slyan said, picking up on his hesitation.

He merely turned and looked hardly at her. She shrunk back a bit at his gaze.

The group moved on and approached the Mines. Frodo went ahead to talk with Gandalf.

As they came closer, Gimli gasped. "The walls... of Moria," he said, pointing. And indeed, they were walls. Plain stone walls.

"Uh, yeah, those ARE walls. Where's the freakin' door?" Slyan asked, shivering a little bit.

"Dwarf walls are invisible when closed," Gimli told them, smug at him knowing something she did't.

"Indeed, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten," the Wizard said.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Legolas said rhetorically. Gimli wisely chose not to say anything. The group came upon the 'doors'. Gandalf was mumbling to himself. The wall suddenly started glowing, the shape of a door appearing in a white outline.

"Ooh, pretty!" Annamaria, now a bit better, exclaimed.

"It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter'," Gandalf translated.

"Well that's poetic and all... but what in the world does that mean?!" Slyan asked impatiently.

"It's simple... If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open," Gandalf explained patiently. He pressed his staff to the 'door' and started chanting.

Lo and behold, nothing happened. He tried another chant. Nothing happened.

"Nothing's happening," Pippin said matter-of-factly. Atarimae game him an amused look.

After that, Gandalf tried some old-fashioned pushing and shoving. He started mumble-complaining to himself, something about knowing lots of spells and languages and other boring stuff like that.

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin asked.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took! And if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words," Gandalf yelled impatiently. Then the chanting began anew as the group sat around waiting.

"This is so stupid..." Annamaria complained as Aragorn set the pony loose.

Pippin started tossing rocks into the water. Slyan went up beside him and picked up a flat rock. "Try this," she said. The held the rock and tossed it in sideways. The rock skipped 5 times.

"Wow!" the Hobbit said. As he raised his arm to try to imitate her, Aragorn grabbed it.

"Do not disturb the water," he told them, his face a picture of seriousness.

"Do not disturb the water," Slyan mimicked grumpily.

"It's no use!" Gandalf gave up. He didn't notice the ripples in the water.

Frodo stood up. "It's a riddle," he enlightened the Wizard. "Speak 'friend', and enter. What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?"

"Mellon," Gandalf told him. Lo and behold, the doors started opening. The group walked in.

"Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone!" Gimli said longingly.

"I could go for some of that beer..." Slyan daydreamed.

"This is the home of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine. A mine!"

Gandalf lit up his staff.

Looking around in horror, Boromir said, "This is no mine..."

"It's a tomb," Barak finished. Just then everyone started noticing the skeletons on the ground. Renor wrinkled his snout in disgust.

"Noooo!" Gimli cried in agony, seeing his brethren's skeletons. Legolas yanked an arrow out of a skull and examined it.

"Goblins," the Elf said in alarm. Everyone drew their weapons.

"We shouldn't have come here," Atarimae said calmly.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir said.

"Get out!" Barak told everyone. Surprisingly, everyone started to obey. Or the would have if the giant tentacle hadn't grabbed Frodo and stated dragging him away.

"Frodo!" everyone called.

"Strider!" Sam called. Aragorn turned around at his call. The Hobbits hacked the tentacle off Frodo and dragged him back from the shore. Many more tentacles came out of the water and started grabbing at the journeyers, who were fighting back. A tentacle grabbed Frodo again and dangled him above it's hideous mouth, him screaming all the while.

It dropped Frodo, distracted by its tentacles getting hacked off. Frodo dropped into Boromir's arms. He set Frodo down and started running toward the mines.

"Into the mines!" Gandalf yelled. The Fellowship did as he bade. Legolas launched a last arrow at the beast, causing it to flail around. As the group ran into the cave, it started caving in.

Then all was dark.

Jhhgkjlk

Woot! 2 chapters in 1 day! Go me!


	4. The Dark

A Tale of Thirteen

Chapter 4: The Dark

"Well this is just perfect," remarked Slyan as she stared back at the now-blocked entrance to the cave. Legolas gave her a look that clearly signaled to shut up. She glared back at him. Everyone else was panting and staring at the blocked entrance. Slyan looked more annoyed than anything else.

"What do we do now?" Annamaria asked in a small voice. She was fluttering near Barak's shoulder, who was huddled up around the hobbits. Because of his large frame, they saw fit to use him as their meatshield should the creature somehow get past the rocks.

"We have only one choice now," Gandalf said gravely as he lit up the tip of his staff. "We must face the long dark of Moria." Galdalf scowled as he began walking, clearly displeased with this turn of events. Everyone else started to brush off their clothes. Renor shook himself out, causing a few trinkets to fall out of the pack Slyan had on his back. Atarimae was trying to calm Akane, who was making noises and prancing around nervously.

"Why did we have to set Bill loose, and they get to keep their animals?" Merry asked Aragorn, looking at him accusingly. Clearly he thought it was unfair.

"Because Akane and Renor are trained for situations like this. They know how to handle battle and otherwise difficult times. Bill was a pony and this journey most likely would have killed him," Aragorn explained while they were walking. Sam sighed, but understood what Aragorn was saying. Pippin, however, looked disappointed.

The group started following Gandalf, who looked more than a little uneasy. "Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world," the old Wizard said ominously.

"I don't like the sound of that…" Boromir remarked silently. It was as if he was afraid that something would jump out at him. He looked around warily, and followed Gandalf.

"Quietly, now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed," the old man continued.

"So… what are the chances of that?" Frodo asked warily. Gandalf looked back at him sternly, but said nothing. "Oh."

The group crossed into another room past a large door, and gasped. They realized the enormity of their situation. It was a huge cave with small stone paths zigzagging all the way around, suspended in midair. Huge stone archways stood above certain points in the trail.

"Well this is gonna be a riot," Slyan sarcastically remarked.

The group continued up the trail for what seemed like ages. They came up to a set of stairs and followed up, continuing on and leaving the huge room behind, only to come to another one with a small path up against the rock and many ladders coming up from the darkness.

Gandalf touched the wall gingerly, and in the light of his staff the travelers noticed that certain places on the wall seemed to emanate with a pale silver light. Legolas, behind him, gazed in wonder and looked at Gandalf questioningly.

"The wealth of Moria was not in gold or jewels, but Mithril," Gandalf elaborated as he pointed his staff's light into the abyss below. The Fellowship gazed in wonder at the glowing sight below them. A large cave snaking down and down as far as the eye could see, ladders covering most of the walls, and the strange light covering the rest.

"Bilbo had a shirt of Mithril rings that Thorin gave him," Gandalf continued as he moved on.

Gimli gasped, "That was a kingly gift!" He looked at Gandalf in wonder, obviously wanting to hear more.

Gandalf chuckled, "Yes." They continued walking, Frodo behind Gandalf and only half-listening. "I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire." Frodo widened his eyes at this, now clearly interested.

They all continued walking for some time until they came to a set of stairs. Very steep stairs. The group started climbing carefully. Barak in particular seemed to be having quite a time, with Akane faring no better. Renor, being a nimble and agile cat, was able to simply hop up every half dozen steps. Pippin slipped a step, and Merry caught him before he could fall- or make a racket. "Pippin," Merry admonished him as Pippin looked back sheepishly and continued up the stairs.

Gandalf reached the top first, and looked around, holding out his staff. He came to a small stone fork leading up another small set of stairs and onto a platform with three large stone doors. The other twelve travelers came behind him, panting. Gandalf stared at the doors, clearly flustered. "I have no memory of this place."

"So which way do we got then? After all, there's only a two in three chance you'll lead us to oblivion," ever-sarcastic Slyan said.

"Shut your mouth for a while, you silly girl!" Gandalf scolded her as he tried to remember. Legolas burst out laughing, but quieted himself, not wanting to be seen as immature. Gandalf sat down on a rock and started whispered to himself.

"That old man is crazy," Slyan mumbled. Legolas smiled, clearly reveling in her embarrassment. The rest of the group sat down on the cold stone. Clearly this was going to take a while.

Boromir and Aragorn sat next to each other, Aragorn smoking a pipe by the fire they had made. Pippin and Merry were sitting together. "Are we lost? I think we are," Pippin remarked.

"Shh, Gandalf's thinking," Merry said.

"Merry?" Pippin asked after a few seconds.

"What?" an annoyed Merry asked back.

"I'm hungry," Pippin told him, half matter-of-factly and half whining.

"Gee, imagine that," Slyan remarked as she got up from next to the two Hobbits and went into a corner by herself.

Atarimae grabbed a small sack from Akane's back and brought it over to Pippin. "Here," she said as she gave it to him. He clapped happily for a second before opening it and digging something up. He excitedly took out… a dry orange thing.

He looked up at her confused and said, "What's this?"

Atarimae smiled and said, "It's a fruit from my homeland, called a mango. It's dried for preservation. Just try it, it's good."

Pippin shrugged and, not one to pass up food, popped it in his mouth. A look of caution on his face turned into a look of joy and he quickly swallowed the piece of mango and grabbed another one from the sack. "It's good!"

Atarimae outright laughed at this and said, "Don't eat too many. We need to save our supplies."

Pippin just brushed off her warning and popped another dried mango into his mouth.

Annamaria looked over to Gandalf and Frodo from her perch on Barak the centaur's back. She fluttered over with just a little bit less zest than usual and managed to catch the last snippet of their conversation, "…and that is an encouraging thought."

"Ah! It's that way," Gandalf remarked loud enough for the rest to hear, and made Annamaria jump and flutter down slightly before coming back up. The others looked up at him.

"He's remembered!" Merry said excitedly. He hopped up and made ready to follow the old Wizard.

"Finally, about freaking time," Slyan muttered. She got up and dusted herself off, though it wasn't likely she was going to get especially dusty in the cave.

"No! But the air doesn't smell so foul down here," a pleased with himself Gandalf said. "If in doubt , Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

The rest of the group followed Gandalf as he descended the stairs behind his chosen door. Slyan jerkily went down the stairs, clearly displeased with the situation. "Well there's a ringing endorsement of this door."

After walking for what seemed like forever and stopping a few times, the group came to a large room that appeared to have been damaged quite a bit. Pillars were fallen over, and stone had crumbled off the rock walls and onto the ground. Symbols and pictures were etched into the walls.

Gandalf seemed pleased, almost joyous in a quiet way, and said, "Let me risk a little more light." The rest of the group looked at the now-illuminated room in wonder. They realized the enormity of the room they were now in. It appeared to be some sort of great hall, long and lined with pillars.

"Behold! The great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

Annamaria leaned in and whispered in Slyan's ear, "Who came up with that name?" Slyan nodded silently, looking in amazement at the hall.

"Well there's an eye-opener and no mistake," Sam declared. The other Hobbits stood behind him.

The group started walking down the path between the pillars. They walked slowly, trying to take in the wonder of the room while they could. As they walked, a small door in the side of the room became visible. What looked like a mass of bones and armor littered near the door. Gimli gasped and ran over to the room.

"Gimli!" Gandalf warned, though the dwarf did not stop. The others followed him.

"No!" Gimli mourned. The room looked like the inside of a long-forgotten tomb, which it may as well have been. Bones, armor, and chipped pieces of stone littered the floor. A coffin stood proudly in the middle of the room with a bright light coming out of the wall, a proud and macabre monument to the battle that had taken place in the room.

"Oh no!" Gimli mourned as he dropped to his knees in front of the coffin. Annamaria look like she was about to cry. Gimli started making vowel sounds and mumbling. Gandalf walked up to the coffin and examined it.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf read the inscription on the stone cover in a grave voice. "He is dead, then. It's as I feared."

Slyan quickly lost interest and started walking around and looked at all the stuff on the walls, careful not to trod on the bones of fallen Dwarves. She had that much decency. Vaguely, she heard Gandalf talking. She walked behind Legolas and heard him say to Aragorn, "We must move on. We cannot linger." Silently she agreed with him.

Slyan walked behind a pillar and held out her hand like a torch, a small flame rising up from her palm and serving as light in the dark corner. She saw something glinting and noticed it was a short sword. Immediately Slyan had money on her mind. She called over to Renor and started to load every shiny thing she could find onto his back. Clearly, he was not pleased.

"Gi vrine'winith ol, Renor. Udos orn inbau fol or'a whol ol a l' huthin k'lar udos vrine'winith. Ka udos morfeth ol doeb d' ghil..." Slyan reassured the big cat. He gave a long sigh, but went along with his greedy mistress. It wasn't like he wasn't used to her shenanigans.

Slyan jumped in slight guilt and mostly surprise when she heard a large banging coming from a well near the tomb. Pippin had somehow managed to knock the head of a dwarf skeleton down the well and made a huge racket in doing so. The rest of the Fellowship looked at the scene in surprise. Slyan gave a bewildered look as the rest of the skeleton toppled with it. Pippin looked around in guilt and moderate horror. And then a bucket on a chain fell. Great.

Gandalf snapped shut the book he was reading and scolded, "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

Everyone paused as they heard a faint _thump_ in the distance. Gandalf listened intently. Everyone's eyes widened as they could hear more _thumps_ and the screeches of some beings they certainly didn't want to encounter.

"Frodo!" Sam half whispered, half yelled. Frodo unsheathed his sword quickly, and saw that it was glowing blue. This meant one thing: Orcs were near, and they certainly didn't want to reenact the tea party from Alice in Wonderland.

"Orcs!" Legolas swore.

Boromir rushed out the door and looked out to check if the enemy was upon them. If the arrow that barely missed his face by an inch was any answer, then yes, the enemy was indeed upon them. Aragorn herded the Hobbits back, "Back! Stay close to Gandalf!" He abandoned the torch and ran toward the door to help Boromir close it.

Boromir looked back and remarked, "They have a cave troll!"

"You have got to be kidding me!" Slyan complained. She unhooked her whip from her hip and got ready to use it. Renor crouched down, ready to strike anything that came out of the door.

"We will deal with whatever they have," Atarimae said confidently.

"Are you guys freaking serious?"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Gi vrine'winith ol, Renor. Udos orn inbau fol or'a whol ol a l' huthin k'lar udos vrine'winith. Ka udos morfeth ol doeb d' ghil...- Oh stop it, Renor. We'll get some money for it at the next location we stop. If we make it out of here...

Disclaimer: I own nothing

R & R please!


	5. Battle Scars

Chapter 5: Battle Scars

Everyone got their weapons ready as the squealing on the other side of the door got louder. The Hobbits hid behind Barak. Annamaria flew up to the ceiling and hid in a large, missing chunk of wall. Boromir and Aragorn did what they could to barricade the door, then fell back with the others.

Slyan glanced over and saw Gimli climb on top of the tomb and start talking, but her heart was beating so loudly that she didn't hear what he was saying. She smirked at how funny he looked, standing atop the tomb, axe drawn.

The room's atmosphere became tenser as more and more weapons broke through the rotting wood door. Legolas shot an arrow through a hole and shrieks of pain rewarded him. One by one Legolas shot more and more arrows through the door. It didn't last, as the door broke down, and orcs came tumbling into the room. Aragorn and Legolas kept up their arrow shots, hoping to reduce the number that the Fellowship had to melee with.

At last the horde of rocs descended upon the Fellowship. Legolas, Aragorn, and Boromir were the first ones to fight with swords, slashing and hacking at the oncoming enemies. The Gimli and Gandalf got caught in the fray. Atarimae twirled her naginata in almost a dance-like move and killed three orcs, but more came. Slyan repeatedly slashed her whip back and forth, with Renor back protecting the Hobbits, and Barak coming forward to assist those in the front. A handful of orcs got past the taller members of the Fellowship and found their way to the scared, but valiant Hobbits, who fought back with everything they had.

Slyan paused and looked over to the door when she heard a loud bang come from its direction. Her eyes widened and glazed over slightly in fear. She pitched forward, running. She saw Sam looking up at the creature in fear. He was apparently frozen on the spot. She ran forward and pulled his cloak back just as the monster's club came crashing down in the spot he had just been in. He looked back up at her, gratitude in his eyes, but unable to say anything out of fear.

"Get back!" Slyan ordered him. He did not need to be told twice. The creature had turned its attention to her now, and she rolled out of the way to avoid its club. She jumped back and slashed at it twice with her whip. "No way!" she yelled. The troll's skin was too thick and she had done no damage whatsoever. Slyan was now backed up against a wall. She ran to the left but was too slow. The monster had hit her in the back with its club, and she screamed as she flew into another nearby wall headfirst.

Legolas looked over to her, hearing her scream. He saw her hit the wall and bounded over to check her. Her head was bleeding. He sighed and drug her over to a corner where she would hopefully not be noticed.

Annamaria had crawled out her hole and was now dropping rocks on top of the remaining orcs. Aragorn looked up and glared at her. She gasped, realizing her mistake-m she had dropped a rock on him. "Sorry, it's dark!" she apologized. Seeing that her usefulness was now over, she flew back into her hole.

Aragorn shook his head in indignation and resumed fighting. Good thing too, because an orc sword was just about to lodge itself in his head. He rolled away and slashed at the orc, killing it.

Now it was Boromir's turn to tangle with the troll. He confidently circle the troll. It went at him with its club and he saw an opening. He rolled under it and slashed at its stomach with his sword, opening a fairly painful-looking gash. It screeched and tried to hit him with its club again, but he rolled away at the last minute. The troll stumbled away in pain, right toward the Hobbits. It blindly snatched up a lone spear and jammed it into the wall next to Frodo.

Frodo screamed and ran away along the wall with his fellow Hobbits. He stumbled and fell. The troll was in front of him, and he had no escape.

"Frodo!" the other Hobbits screamed. They picked up small rocks and threw them at the beast, but it was either ignoring or didn't feel them. Atarimae heard their screams and tried to run over, stumbling over dead bodies.

The troll raised up its stolen spear, and plunged it straight into Frodo's chest. It was as if the entire room had gotten quiet. Gandalf looked over, grief welling up in his eyes. The other three Hobbits stared in shock. Their faces became contorted in rage and they all charged forward, stabbing at the troll as best they could. Boromir and Legolas were up above fighting. Seeing their chance, they both hopped onto the flailing troll's back. Boromir continued stabbing it, and Legolas was launching arrows into it head. It screamed in agony.

Slyan started to come to and saw the spear chest-deep in Frodo. She drew her sword and started slashing her way to the group.

Atarimae finally got to the group and ducked under the troll's arms and between it and Frodo. She raised her naginata, and stabbed the troll in the stomach, right where Boromir had slashed it. The troll looked down at its fatal wound in surprise. It stumbled around weakly. Boromir hopped off the creature, and Legolas fired two more arrows before following him. The troll collapsed some feet away.

The other three Hobbits gathered around their fallen comrade. Aragorn slashed at and killed the final orc. Annamaria flitted out of her hiding spot and slowly floated down onto Barak's back. The Fellowship was gathered around their fallen comrade.

Aragorn stumbled over the Frodo and dropped to his knees beside him. "Oh no…" he whispered, turning Frodo over. The entire Fellowship was astonished when Frodo coughed.

Sam dropped down next to them and breathed a sigh of relief. "He's alive," he said, relief in his voice.

"I'm not hurt," Frodo said, breathing heavily.

"Yeah how is that?" coughed Slyan. She was leaning on a nearby wall. Blood was running down from a wound on her head. Her eyes were a bit unfocused, but she could hear clearly for the most part.

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf remarked. Frodo look down and slowly opened up his shirt.

"Mithril…" Gimli gasped in astonishment.

"You are full of surprises, Master Baggins," joked Barak good-naturedly. Barak walked over to Slyan and invited her onto his back. She weakly climbed onto his and put rested her heat on him.

"You're kinda soft…" she remarked sleepily.

"That would be the concussion, I presume," Legolas quipped.

"Do not let her fall asleep," Aragorn told Barak. His medical skills were once again proving their use.

Her ride now occupied, Annamaria flew up and settled herself on Renor's back. He growled faintly, clearly not happy about being someone's noble steed. "Nice kitty," she said chirpily. Renor rolled his eyes.

Legolas whipped his head toward the door. The group could hear faint shrieks coming from the door.

"To the bridge of Khazad-Dum," Gandalf hurriedly told them. The group ran through a nearby door and through a large hall that must have at one time been beautiful, their way lit by Gandalf's staff. Haflway across the hall, the group saw an enormous horde of orcs coming their way. Orcs were rising up from every nook and crevice in the hall, surrounding the group. The orcs jabbed at the surrounded group with their weapons, pleased at their prey.

A booming noise silenced the horde. All in the hall looked to the rapidly brightening entrance they'd just came from. The orcs rapidly scattered, leaving the Fellowship wondering what was going on. They looked to the door.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir calmly asked from behind Gandalf.

Gandalf's eyes hardened, and he looked older now than ever. He looked to the rapidly brightening door dejectedly, almost defeated. "A Balrog."

"A demon of the ancient world…" Legolas whispered in fear.

"This foe is beyond any of you," continued Galdalf, turning around. "RUN!" He ran toward the opposite door, away from the beast.

"Well, this should be fun," remarked Slyan grumpily.

Another update. I'd like to thank those who read, despite my sparse updating pattern. Remember, reviews are gold!


	6. Grief

Chapter 6: Grief

The Fellowship continued running until they came to a large cavern-like room. Crumbling stone stairways were suspended in midair. The group came to a screeching halt as they came to a thin stairway against the wall of the cavern. They continued downward until they came to a large gap in another offshoot stairway suspended in midair. Legolas grabbed Slyan from Barak's back and jumped first, the others soon following. The group hurriedly tried to jump down the stairs, terrified at the sound, light, and particular ashy smell coming from the beast that was following them.

One of the Hobbits cried out as arrows started sailing toward them from the dark corners of the cavern. Legolas and Aragorn quickly drew their arrows and started firing back. Soon Gimli, Aragorn, and Frodo were the only ones left, and Gimli looked at the other side in trepidation. Boromir had just picked up two Hobbits and jumped across with them in his arms. Gimli obviously did not like this idea.

"_No one_ tosses a dwarf," he said matter-of-factly. He leaped across without so much as a running start and about slipped below, were it not for Legolas grabbing him by the beard. "NOT THE BEARD!" he bellowed.

A large chunk of the stairs broke off again. Aragorn and Frodo struggled backward. Atarimae reached out with her naginata toward Frodo. "Grab on!" she urged. Frodo was terrified, but not one to argue at that particular moment. He grabbed on. Atarimae struggled with the new weight, but pulled him over successfully. Aragorn jumped over.

The travelers continued onward, driven by the beast almost upon them. They came to another large hall and they all headed toward the bridge that was now in sight.

"Over the bridge!" Gandalf urged. He froze as a large, _close_ bellow erupted in the room. The Balrog appeared from behind a wall of flame, staring the Wizard straight in the eyes. The Wizard started back with as much determination before falling back to the bridge with the others. The Fellowship flew across the bridge, Gandalf bringing up the rear.

The group looked back at Gandalf standing in the middle of the bridge, facing the Balrog. "You cannot pass!" he bellowed at the advancing monster.

"Gandalf!" Frodo and Annamaria called.

The Balrog reared back and- was suddenly forced back as a large lance of blue fire hit it straight in the gut. The group, not the mention the Balrog, looked to find the source of the attack. They saw Slyan, now seeming to be perfectly aware, holding her hand out. In it was a ball of blue fire. She cupped with both hands and expanded them, the ball growing larger. When it was about the size of a boulder, she pitched it at the Balrog, which, now ready for another attack, was knocked back but did not fall. Slyan's eyes were glowing faintly, and there was a weak aura around her that someone was about to get hurt. Slyan snapped her fingers and moved her arm to the side in an arc, bringing it back. A whip made of blue flame, not unlike the Balrog's whip except a different color, appeared. She snapped it repeatedly.

"Where I come from, creatures like you know their place, _Balrog_," Slyan growled at the creature.

"This creature is beyond you, foolish girl!" Gandalf called at her. He raised his glowing staff and sword. "I am a servant of the sacred fire, wielder of the flame of Anor," he began.

"There has to be another way!" Slyan called back weakly. Her eyes rolled up and she dropped, Aragorn catching her before she hit the ground. He hoisted her into his arms. Legolas glanced at her with new respect in his eyes, then turned his eyes back to the Balrog and Gandalf.

Gandalf ignored her and continued, "The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!" The Balrog brought down a sword made of fire onto Gandalf. The Wizard blocked it with a well-timed shield made of light around him.

The Balrog was now very angry, and it screamed at Gandalf.

"Go back to the Shadow," Gandalf ordered determinedly. The Balrog swung its whip at Gandalf.

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" bellowed Gandalf, bringing down his staff and sword into the stone bridge. The fellowship felt a strange wind-like energy emanate from the blow. The Balrog sprinted forward and slashed its whip, but stopped as the stone bridge crumbled beneath it. Gandalf looked at the falling Balrog and turned to rejoin the shellshocked Fellowship, who all sighed quietly in relief.

Annamaria screamed as she saw the whip come snaking back up and grab Gandalf by the ankle. Gandalf fell and dropped his staff, and hung by the stone bridge, looking not unlike Gimli slipping from the last one not too much earlier. Frodo rushed forward, but was halted by Atarimae and Boromir. Annamaria zipped forward in the air and attempted the hoist the Wizard back up, but her wings were far too weak. Gandalf started at the Fellowship.

"Fly, you fools," he told them calmly before letting go.

"NO!" Frodo screamed in agony, trying to run forward. Atarimae and Boromir held him back as he flailed wildly. Boromir lifted up the frenzied Hobbit and ran to the stairs that led out of the caves.

"Aragorn!" Boromir called to the shocked Ranger. He and the rest of the group hurried up the stairs, now driven by more arrows sailing towards them. The group came to a large door that thankfully required no password to open, and ran out into the cruel mountain wilderness on the other side.

The Hobbits dropped down to grieve, the majority of the Fellowship doing the same. Atarimae closed her eyes in grief, now looking somehow centuries older. Barak's shoulders were shaking somewhat, but he for the most part kept his emotions in check. Slyan was weeping weakly in Boromir's arms. He held her tighter, feeling the same grief. Gimli tried to run back into the door, but Boromir firmly held him back. Legolas was staring aimlessly into the sky, his eyes closed, and saying some Elven grieving words.

"Legolas, get them up," Aragorn called, hiding his grief. Legolas looked at him listlessly for a moment, and then moved to do what he ordered.

Boromir glared at Aragorn, "Give them a moment for pity's sake!"

"He's right. These hills will be crawling with orcs before nightfall," Atarimae said, her voice cracking slightly.

"We must reach the woods of Lothlorien," Aragorn explained, sheathing his sword and running up the hill back to the group. "On your feet Sam," Aragorn said, hoisting the Hobbit to his feet, who gazed at Aragorn with a glazed-over look.

Atarimae crouched next to Frodo, "His death will have been in vain if we do not hurry." She gently picked him up to his feet and she nodded to him.

The Fellowship continued on over rocks, gurgling creeks, and dying grasses, with Aragorn in the lead. The continued to a lush grassland and finally to the edge of the forest. Upon reaching the forest, the group slowed. They could feel the strange change in energy. The forest had something off about it… It was too serene, too calm, and felt just a tad bit foreboding.

The Hobbits and Annamaria were standing with Gimli in about the front of their little procession. "Stay close, younglings," the Dwarf warned. The Hobbits listened intently. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods."

Atarimae snuck up behind them and, knowing the story, whispered, "An Elf-witch… of terrible power." Gimli, the Hobbits, and Annamaria jumped in fright.

Gimli glared at her for a moment before continuing, "They say all who look upon her fall under her spell… and are never seen again."

"If that were true, where would the stories have come from?" asked Barak, chuckling. He was finding it terribly funny that the Dwarf was so superstitious, and that the little ones were listening to him.

Atarimae looked over and noticed Frodo looking around wildly. She put her hand on his shoulder. He yelped and almost darted off, but saw it was her and calmed down a bit.

"Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily," Gimli said resolutely. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

"Not to mention the stink of a bear coming out of its den after burrowing season," Annamaria piped up. The Hobbits and Atarimae laughed weakly, still grieving too much to fully appreciate the joke. The younglings jumped as several arrows found themselves trained six inches in front of the Dwarf's head.

The fest of the Fellowship soon noticed the hostility and stopped and looked at their would-be assailants who were aiming straight at them. Legolas was aiming his bow straight back, but visibly distressed at the uneven odds.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," said a smooth voice coming from a man leaving his spot behind a tree and coming toward the Fellowship.

And that's where I'm ending it for now. I was inspired to write more despite my spastic updating pattern. I was listening to "Running Up That Hill" by Placebo for the entire chapter and it kinda got me into grief-writing mode.

Reviews are gold!


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